You're my father, not my dad!

Back at home, things between my parents were getting better now. They no longer argued as much as they did and there wasn’t any physical violence between them but I still couldn’t find a way to forgive him. Whenever I would reach such a stage he would simply remind him that I’m not his, I’m not his son. Well atleast that’s what he told me and such words echoed in my mind like a lullaby a mother would sing to her child before they would get nightmares. I can’t stand to look at him and whenever I do, everything he has ever done to me rushes back into my mind. Of the three sons he has, he chose to hurt and scar me without a valid reason. He has no remorse what-so-ever for what he did. We have no personal relationship. All that I know of him is that he is my father and not my dad. He might not remember what he’s done to me but I will...